Expect the Unexpected
by erica1531
Summary: Before S5, Jack meets with Chloe to get updates on the life he used to lead.


**A/N:**_ I cannot believe I am publishing this. I cannot believe that I wrote this. My general reaction to Jack/Chloe is equal partsjoy and horror, but... but I couldn't help it. My stupid muse was yelling at me, and once it was on paper, I figured I might as well publish it. Contains, uh, well, _mature_ themes. Takes place between S4 and S5_

* * *

She looked around the motel room nervously. He should be here soon. What was keeping him? Had something happened? God, she hated this.

Jumping as she heard the door open, Chloe took her hands off the keyboard of her laptop and faced the doorway. Blocking all the light from outside was the figure of the man who wove in and out of the edges of her life like a ghost.

The door closed, and Jack removed his hand from the holster of his gun, his body visibly relaxing. "Chloe," he breathed in relief.

She rose and moved towards him. "You're here."

"Yeah."

"Are you… are you okay?"

"I'm doing fine. The oil rig's doing well." He paused, and she made no move to break the uncomfortable silence. "I guess life is a hell of a lot simpler this way."

"Maybe, but you're not doing what you love. And it's not like you're making a difference in the world or anything, so what's even the point?"

Jack sighed. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"That was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?"

"Don't worry about it, Chloe." He wandered toward the window, fiddling with the cord on the drawn blind. "So… how've you been?"

"Fine." She offered nothing further and he didn't press her.

"How's Kim?"

"Still heartbroken. About you, about Chase and Angela. She barely even gets to see her anymore."

Sighing heavily, he turned his back. "Keep track of her, Chloe."

"I am."

After a few moments, he turned to face her again. "When was the last time you talked to Michelle and Tony?"

"A few weeks ago. They both miss you."

"But mostly, they're just happy to be together."

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Well, they deserve it. How's their company?"

"Great. I got into Michelle's accounts, and-"

_ "Chloe." _

"Well, how else am I supposed to keep track of them for you?"

"Oh, I don't know._ Ask_ them instead of sneaking into their private records." He paused in a moment of feigned disapproval. "You got into the medical records?"

"Yeah."

"Is Michelle…?"

"She had another miscarriage last week."

"How's she taking it?"

"The same way she always does. Her system's being accessed fourteen hours a day."

"They need a miracle."

"Or some goddamn adoption papers."

Choosing to ignore the comment, he changed the subject. "How are things at CTU?"

"The same as usual."

"Good."

Standing abruptly, Chloe reached into her laptop case and withdrew a manila folder, which she handed to Jack.

"Updated documentation."

"Thanks," he muttered, tucking the folder into his bag.

"You should probably go."

"Yeah," he agreed, making no move to leave.

Ignoring him, Chloe returned to her seat at the desk and resumed work on her laptop.

Jack dropped his bag. Hearing the sound, Chloe glanced up. "Jack?"

The next thing she knew she was pressed against the wall with Jack's rough lips on hers. His tongue pushed at her lips and she parted them, welcoming him. Their mouths tangled together until she didn't know what was hers and what was his anymore. Finally, Jack pulled back to breathe.

"What the hell did you just do?" Chloe demanded, gasping for air.

"I kissed you," he said, shock evident on his face.

"And I kissed you back…" she muttered. And then, as if she was snapping out of a trance: "Are you out of your mind?"

"Probably," he admitted, with a laugh that was really nothing more than a short exhalation. And then his arms were around her and her hands were on his chest and their lips fused.

She shoved him, hard, down onto the bed. Tumbling on top of him, she straddled him and their lips met again. Shoes were kicked off and his jeans were somehow pulled off without breaking the kiss.

After several minutes, he pushed her off of him and as he sat up, her hands tore hungrily at his shirt, pulling it over his head. And then her hands were on him again as he ripped off her jacket.

Hands explored bodies as they wrestled on the bed, her tank-top and pants coming off in the tussle. For a long time, they struggled together, exploring each other wildly and without inhibition. Chloe felt a tingling heat wherever his hands touched her skin, so that after just a few minutes every inch of her body was on fire. Her lips were on his neck, his chest.

Jack, running his hands across her back, finally reached the clasp of her bra and unhooked it. Shuddering, she shed the garment, and within moments Jack's lips were on her breasts.

While he eagerly kissed every bit of skin he could find, Chloe tugged at his boxers, and then she could feel him against her. Following her lead, Jack slid her panties off, so that she groaned as his hand pressed against her.

And then they were tangled together, and there was no longer any clear distinction where one stopped and the other began. The sex was rough, and there was an urgency about it, as if they knew their minutes were limited.

He felt desperate to soak in as much of her as he could before they parted; before he would again sever this link to the Jack Bauer he'd left behind. And Chloe- Chloe was consumed with the overwhelming desire to feel the closeness of Jack, the only man who'dever accepted her for what she was. Who cared about her because of her flaws, not in spite of them. Who understood why she had to be the way she was, and who appreciated it because on a different level, he was exactly the same way.

It lasted much longer than it felt like it did. The only thought was of absorbing as much as they could in as little time as possible, and no matter how long they ravaged each other, it never felt like enough.

Because there never could be enough. Jack's only connection with the life he used to lead was the monthly contact with Chloe—no more, no less. That slim thread was all that connected them—that slim thread and an eternity of hells that they'd gone through together.

When it was over, neither of them spoke. Jack found his clothes; got dressed. Chloe stood and pulled on her underwear and pants and tank-top. Lifting his bag onto his shoulder, he stood, silent, staring at her.

Finally, he stepped towards her and kissed her—a firm, decisive kiss. And then he opened the door and he was gone.


End file.
